


Seeds of Discord Part 35

by kbj1123



Series: Wonder Woman & Captain America [36]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Wonder Woman - All Media Types
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Avengers - Freeform, Captain America - Freeform, Crossover Pairings, F/M, Marvel Universe, One True Pairing, wonder woman - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-30
Updated: 2015-03-30
Packaged: 2018-03-20 11:03:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3647919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kbj1123/pseuds/kbj1123
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone or something is causing violent riots to erupt all over the U.S., and whatever it is, it wreaks havoc with both Wonder Woman's health and Bruce Banner's ability to keep his rage in check.</p><p>Spring's oncoming means a time of healing can begin; Steve wonders about what the future holds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seeds of Discord Part 35

He should know better than to try to get serious work done with this many people around. The tree was about to be perfect. It’s not easy to get perfect shading on anything when your materials are cardboard and water-based poster paint. There was a shout of “DADDY!” a pair of hands around his throat from behind, and now, an ugly black streak across a tree trunk and part of an otherwise pale blue sky. Steve sighs, puts down the paintbrush and flips his six-year-old upside-down, over his head, and into his lap. He isn’t mad; he’s looking down at a childish, blonde version of Diana. He grabs her by the ankles, stands up and dangles her over a paint pan full of sky-blue. “I’m so glad you’re here to help, my dear,” he exclaims. “Your hair is just the right length to use as a paintbrush!” He slowly lowers her towards the paint, and she screams, which results in about a half-dozen other first graders running in their direction, trampling most of the set-in-progress for next week’s school assembly. He rights his daughter onto her feet and tells her and her companions, “Give me about ten minutes, guys. Let me fix this tree and then we’ll play for a little while before it’s time to get home.” A few kids start to whine, but Sarah pulls herself up tall, places her hands on her hips, and reminds her friends that they’ve been issued an order. She corrals the group back outside and Steve grins. Then he returns to the task of cleaning the backdrop for “Red Riding Hood,” starring Sarah Rogers as “The Grandmother.”

It is just a few days before April, and Steve lays in bed with his eyes closed, unwilling to let go of the dream. He hears Bruce and Diana in the kitchen. Bruce has said something that made Diana laugh. He swore he was okay with this: with slowly rebuilding their broken friendship. It wasn’t even Diana’s idea, although she was thrilled to try. No, this happened as a result of some “team-building” exercises implemented by SHIELD powers-that-be over the last couple of weeks, accompanied by group therapy. It’s the kind of thing he could see himself making other people do, but never imagined having to do himself. The upshot is that before any field work happens that involves Diana, Bruce, and himself, barring emergencies, forced healing will happen. So, Diana and Bruce are drinking tea in the kitchen, post-yoga, and waiting for Steve to join them for a run this early Saturday morning. “Hey Diana, can I steal you away for a few minutes?” he calls out.

She walks into the room, smiles, and sits next to him at the edge of the bed. “Good morning my love,” she tells him and kisses him.

He sits up and hugs her. “I just wanted a little time with you before I had to share you,” he says into her neck. 

Diana laughs. “You can have all the time you want after we run. One hour or so and I am all yours.” She kisses his nose, then his mouth. It’s all the motivation he needs to get the day started.

Bruce nods and smiles cautiously when Steve eventually joins them. Running laps at a park isn’t a bad way to start rebuilding their friendship. No one has to talk, like in the team-building sessions; they don’t have to touch each other or act like they’re especially interested in what one or the other has to say. They just have to run laps. So for an hour, they do just that; occasionally their paces match, their breathing falls into a uniform rhythm, and after a few miles they shake hands and part ways. Steve still thinks the handshake between Bruce and Diana is a little longer, a little tenderer than necessary, but he keeps it to himself. 

It rains all afternoon, and they spend most of it strolling around the National Gallery. He lingers in front of Blake’s “Job and His Daughters,” and tells Diana, “I had another dream.” She hugs him. “Should we talk?” 

He shrugs. “I’m trying to decide whether it’s something I really want or something I’m reacting to,” he replies honestly. “I mean, once this threat with Eris or Dionysus, or whoever we’re dealing with is really over, I don’t know that I’d have a problem walking away from my commission and doing something else. What do you think?”

Diana is quiet for a few moments. She stares either at or past the Blake drawing, holding tightly to Steve’s hand. Finally, she says, “First, neither Bruce nor I will be fully healed until this threat is finished. Even after fighting with her a few weeks ago, I was weak afterwards. Also, I think we’ve been married for less than a year, and it hasn’t been an easy year at that. I’m barely used to being a mostly-human woman in Man’s World, I’m still getting the hang of being married, and I don’t know how to be anything other than a warrior for peace.”

Steve tightens his grip on her hand, even as he feels his heart sink a bit. “Oh.” He doesn’t successfully hide the disappointment.

“I’m not saying ‘no,’” Diana continues. “But I won’t lie and say the idea doesn’t in equal parts attract and terrify me. I’m ready to put this ridiculous and deadly game of the gods behind us once and for all, but I don’t think I’m ready to stop being Wonder Woman. Not yet.” 

They stand quietly for a few breaths. She tells him, “The world is in transition. Persephone is coming home to Demeter, and the Earth is waking up. A change in seasons means renewal, but it doesn’t mean we should overhaul everything at once, my dearest.”

She doesn’t sound entirely convinced, Steve thinks. Or maybe he just wants that to be the case. As if reading his mind, she adds, “Perhaps another year or two or three. I just want to be us for a little longer, before there are little ones, and all the strange responsibilities career changes they come with. Right now, I just want you.” 

She pulls him close and kisses him, and he doesn’t really care that people are starting to take pictures with their phones. Her mouth is so soft, and her breath is so warm. Last year, the idea of even holding her hand in public made him nervous and slightly sweaty. Right now, he’s reasonably sure that Diana is his source of oxygen and sustenance, and tourists can take as many pictures of him breathing as they like. 

That evening, he watches her as she sleeps. Her bare skin glows in the reflected moonlight. Even with pad and pencil in hand, he’s torn between drawing her and waking her up to make love again. The fact is that nothing else really seems to exist without her presence. He knows she can take care of herself, and that he is unlikely to lose her in battle. He knows she loves him, and he is not going to lose her to Bruce or anyone else. He doesn’t have to run. He doesn’t have to stop saving the world—at least not yet. On paper, he traces over her form as if running his finger over her flesh. When the paper no longer serves as a substitute, he puts the sketchbook aside and gently places a hand on her waist. She smiles, half-asleep, and presses toward him. She opens her eyes and he’s taken in by the entire sky and ocean as she wraps her fingers through his own. “You are absolutely everything to me,” he says quietly. He scoots closer and kisses her shoulder, moves his mouth across her collarbone to the hollow of her throat, and she slides her leg over him and meets him for a kiss. He barely registers the sketchbook fall to the floor. The night and early hours of the morning come in waves of love and sleep. On Sunday morning, before getting out of bed, he reaches down to put his sketchbook away properly. He is surprised that on paper, Diana’s belly is round and swollen. It glows silver as Artemis’ arrows, radiant as last night’s full moon. He stuffs the book in his nightstand drawer before she wakes to see it.


End file.
